


With or Without You

by LilyEllison



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Post-Season/Series 03, black mask - Freeform, idiots to lovers, little bit of praise kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23071051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyEllison/pseuds/LilyEllison
Summary: “I think we should have sex," Karen said, putting her bottle down on the sticky high-top table they were sitting around at Josie's.Matt choked on his sip of beer. That definitely had not been what he was expecting to hear when Karen asked him to join her for a drink at the end of a long day at the office.“It’s affecting our work," she said calmly. "Well, at least my work. I’m sure you know I’ve been...thinking about it. And maybe I’m wrong, but I think you have too.”
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Karen Page
Comments: 35
Kudos: 68





	With or Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to irelandhoneybee and Quietshade for convincing me to post this instead of trash it.

“I think we should have sex," Karen said, putting her bottle down on the sticky high-top table they were sitting around at Josie's.

Matt choked on his sip of beer. That definitely had not been what he was expecting to hear when Karen asked him to join her for a drink at the end of a long day at the office.

“It’s affecting our work," she said calmly. "Well, at least my work. I’m sure you know I’ve been...thinking about it. And maybe I’m wrong, but I think you have too.”

“Yeah—um, yes,” he spluttered.

She sighed. “The relationship thing didn’t work out. So we probably just need to get it out of our systems. You know, so we can move on.”

"Karen—"

"We don’t have to, if you don’t want to."

"I _want_ to—"

"OK, then. We're agreed."

Matt clutched his bottle helplessly, not sure what he was supposed to do or say next. His body was responding with an inconvenient enthusiasm to Karen's words, even as warning bells sounded in the back of his mind. He was pretty sure this wasn’t a great idea — he was already in way too deep with her — but he also knew there was no way in hell he could resist.

"So, uh, when should we make this happen?" she asked.

"We could—I mean—"

"Yeah, let's just go," she said, grabbing her purse.

* * *

Matt's place was closest, so that's where they ended up. His heart was thumping so loudly in his ears that he almost couldn't hear anything else. The door closed behind them, and they were left standing awkwardly in the hallway. All alone.

Karen breathed out heavily and licked her lips. Her body was saying she was more than interested, but her heart fluttered nervously.

Matt swallowed. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

She squared her shoulders and turned to face him. “Yeah. I am," she said steadily. "And who knows? Maybe it won’t even be good."

Matt slid his arm around her, pulling her body flush against his. "Oh, it’ll be good," he promised quietly in her ear. 

He trailed his lips over the softness of her cheek until he reached her lips. He kissed her deeply, his hand sliding from her neck to her shoulder to her waist, until he was slowly pulling her shirt untucked. He kissed her in the way he’d longed to kiss her for months now — over and over again, without hesitation, giving her everything he had until her knees went weak and she was clinging to him.

And then he picked her up and took her to his bed.

* * *

"Yeah, that was...that was really good," Karen said breathlessly. Matt smiled into her skin, collapsed against her shoulder. "I'm glad we did that."

Her hands were in his hair, pushing it back from his damp forehead as he turned his face up to her, supporting himself on his elbows. "Me too," he said.

"Thanks...for..." She trailed off, sounding embarrassed, and he wanted to kiss away her discomfort, to suggest they start again from the beginning and make it last the whole night. But he didn't know where the boundaries of their agreement were. Were they really supposed to just leave it like this?

He hovered for a long moment, caught in an indecisive loop, waiting for something from her — a word, a signal. When it didn’t come, he settled for brushing her cheek with his lips and then he shifted away from her. She pulled the sheet up, clutching it against her chest as he headed for the bathroom.

When he came back, she was already mostly dressed. He grabbed his boxer briefs and put them on, sitting on the edge of the bed as she took a turn in the bathroom herself. Some part of him had still hoped that she would spend the night, but obviously that wasn't on her agenda. His disappointment was sharp.

"Hey," Karen said from the doorway when she returned. "Is it OK if I stick around while you get suited up?"

It was only then that he realized she expected him to put on the mask and hit the streets. She didn't think he would take even one night off for her. He wanted to tell her that he would — and that he wanted so much more than just a one-time thing — but he was afraid of her reaction, so he just smiled crookedly. At least she wasn’t leaving yet.

"Sure," he said and he swallowed away all those other words, the ones he couldn’t say.

* * *

She sat on the closed lid of the toilet as he took a shower. She had picked up his mask and brought it in with her — he could sense her turning it over in her hands, running her fingers over the fabric as she talked to him. He tried to focus on her movements, on the silvery sound of her voice echoing in the bathroom acoustics, instead of regretting the way the traces of her left on his body were swishing soapily down the drain.

"Have you ever thought about going back to the red suit?" she asked as he turned off the water and reached for his towel.

"I don't know how I could," he answered honestly, drying his hair behind the curtain. "People would be terrified when they saw me coming."

"Everyone knows the 'real' Daredevil wears black now," Karen said slowly. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"And there's more to it than that," he said. "It's complicated."

"I get it," she said, and he knew she did. He couldn't go back. He wasn't sure if he deserved to. But even if he did, it would be like putting on a jacket he'd outgrown. It just didn't fit who he was anymore. "It was safer, though," she added quietly.

"You worried about me, Miss Page?" He finished drying off and tucked the towel around his waist before opening the curtain to step out of the shower.

"Maybe a little," she said, breath hitching slightly at the sight of him.

He felt a welling of affection in his chest. "I can look into getting new armor, if you want me to," he said tenderly, and then he started to walk out of the bathroom to go get dressed.

"Matt?"

He paused.

"I want you to."

* * *

He dressed carefully, more carefully than he usually would, trying to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him, the quickening of her pulse as she watched him transform in front of her.

When he was ready to go up to the roof, he turned to her. "You still have your key?"

"Yeah, I'll lock up and head home."

"Be careful," he said, and she scoffed.

"Look who's talking."

Then suddenly she was hugging him. "Still friends, right?" she whispered.

"Of course," he whispered back, his eyes closing as he soaked in the feel of her arms around him again.

"I think we made the right choice," she said, and for once he couldn't read what her heartbeat was telling him.

She walked home, even though of course she knew he would think a cab was safer. He tracked her from the rooftops, staying concealed. Even mixed with the stronger smells of the streets, she still carried the scent of them mingled together, and he already ached with longing for her.

"Goodnight, Matt," she said, quietly but out loud, when she got to her apartment door. High above, he was startled into a smile, knowing there was no way she could actually see him. 

"Goodnight, Karen," he whispered to himself.

But he knew the good part of the night was already over.

* * *

Matt was irritable as hell by the time he got to work in the morning.

They had absolutely _not_ made the right choice. He'd spent the whole night thinking of Karen, and then dreaming of Karen, her voice and her scent and her body against his. And now he had to go into the office and work beside her — while she _moved on_.

But his frustration changed flavor as the three of them moved through their morning routine at Nelson, Murdock & Page. Karen was jumpy and, judging from the way she responded when she was near him, she hadn't gotten anything out of her system.

He felt a frisson of excitement. Maybe there was still a way—

"You guys OK?" Foggy asked, interrupting his thoughts. "You know that expression — nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs? That's the vibe I'm getting today. Did something happen?"

"No," Matt said, at the same time Karen said, "Of course not." They both flushed.

Foggy laughed. "I still can't believe you manage to maintain a secret identity," he said to Matt. "And you're not much better," he said to Karen. "Just...tell me when you're ready, OK?"

* * *

Matt had a hearing in the afternoon, and he headed home straight from the courthouse, wondering if he should give Karen a call. They really should talk. Another day like this one in the office would be pretty much intolerable.

Before he could make up his mind, he heard her approaching downstairs. His body immediately snapped to attention.

_Calm down, Matthew._

Karen was barely through the door before she broached the topic on both of their minds. "So that...didn't really work. I'm still thinking about you."

"All day," he breathed. They were slowly moving closer together.

"Maybe—I mean, maybe we just need to get through all of our—our fantasies, you know," she said, her hands running up his chest. "And then we'll be over it."

"Yeah, that—that could work," Matt said, curling his fingers around her hips and kissing her neck. He'd agree to anything at this point, if it meant more of her. Her lips found his, warm and urgent, and he immediately felt himself unraveling, swept away in the rush of her.

"What...what do you want, Karen?" he managed to murmur between kisses.

"Uh, well." She blushed sweetly, her cheek pressed close to his. "I've been thinking about...um, from behind?"

He started undoing the buttons of her blouse, fumbling in his desperate desire for her skin.

"And..."

"What?" he prompted. "Anything."

"Don't hold back, OK?"

He smiled. And he held tight to both sides of her blouse and yanked, the last few buttons popping off and pinging over the floor.

"Oh, fuck," Karen gasped, pulling him tight against her. She was so hot the taste of her was already filling his mouth.

He pressed her back against the wall and left a wet trail of rough kisses down her body, from her neck to her chest to the smooth plane of her stomach. Once he was on his knees, he pushed her skirt up. He couldn't wait to get her on his bed, to give her what she asked for, but there was important work to be done first.

* * *

Again, she kept him company while he got ready to go out. Again, it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her he’d stay in, if she would just stay with him.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t bridge the gap between what she was offering and what he wanted.

Eventually, he had nothing left to tie or adjust. It was time to go. But he didn’t.

“Did you like the red suit better?” he asked her, not sure if he was genuinely curious or if he just wanted to delay.

She made a little sound of surprise, then shook her head. “I don’t know. Like you said, it’s complicated.” 

And he realized then that Karen was a big part of why the thought of wearing the old suit felt wrong now. Because of the way that maniac had targeted her while wearing it. And because, even before then, it represented a time in his life when he tried too hard to divide himself into two separate pieces, when it was all him, all along. When he’d wrecked the best parts of his life in the pursuit of a false freedom.

In the black suit, he was the version of himself who vowed to keep Karen safe, not the one who disappointed her, over and over.

Karen had closed the distance between them while he stood lost in thought. She reached up to touch his cheek, her fingers trailing along the edge of the fabric. “There really is something about this mask. I guess you never forget your first time with Daredevil.”

He laughed softly, leaning in to kiss her. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to, but she kissed him back eagerly, and he relaxed into it.

By the time they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. "Maybe...you could come by my place later?” she murmured. “I mean, if you want to."

“Hmm,” he said with amusement. “Another fantasy?”

"Don’t judge," she said.

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He kissed her one last time before they left the apartment their own separate ways.

This time, at her doorstep, she whispered, “See you soon” instead of “goodnight.”

* * *

But it wasn’t as soon as he would have liked.

The night was a busy one, and by the time he made it to Karen’s apartment, she was sleeping lightly in her bed. But the window was unlocked, and he went inside anyway. He didn’t want to disappoint her.

She stirred as he entered her bedroom, waking with a soft little gasp. “Daredevil.”

“Good evening, Miss Page,” he said, his voice low. “I heard you might need a helping hand tonight.”

“I need a whole lot more than that,” she said, letting out a long, delighted sigh. He leaned down over her, pulling off his gloves as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. She gave him just enough time to get rid of his boots before she tugged on his shirt, drawing him down into the warmth of her bed. 

He wasn’t prepared for Karen’s bed. For her sheets, heated by her body and soaked in her scent — lavender and coffee and salt and a thousand other ingredients that made his senses say _Karen, Karen, Karen_. The sheets weren’t silk, but the cotton was the softer variety, like the loose t-shirt that was the only thing she was wearing.

She kissed him, then made him roll over so he was flat on his back. She straddled his upper thighs, holding him in place as she ran her hands over his shirt. He wasn’t bleeding, but he had gotten scratched up. She traced a finger lightly over each of the snags and tears in the fabric.

“You’re getting armor, right?” she said sternly.

“Yeah. I’m working on it.”

“Good,” she said, running a tender hand up to his jawline. “Good vigilante.”

He chuckled, but he couldn’t help the way his body reacted to her praise.

“You like that?” she asked pointedly, rolling her hips over him. “You like being good for me?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, running his hands up and down her silky thighs.

She leaned down to kiss him, her mouth full of fire. “You wanna show me how good you can be?”

“God, Karen,” he panted. “Yes.”

“Keep the mask on,” she said, her hands working open his belt.

* * *

He was good for her. He was very, very good.

And his reward was what he'd wanted since the beginning, though she didn't know it. He fell asleep next to her, his skin still tingling from the shower, wrapped up in a haze of blissful exhaustion, and her arms.

* * *

Waking up to Karen’s heartbeat filling his ears, Matt realized sleepily that he needed to rewrite his entire definition of happiness. He tried not to move — he barely even breathed. He didn’t want to disturb her. He didn’t want this to end.

The sun was pleasant on his face and Karen was curled up next to him, a few strands of her hair tickling over his skin. He listened with a bittersweet mixture of sadness and anticipation as the rhythm of her breathing changed. She was waking up.

She yawned and stretched beside him. He could hear the smile in her voice as she said good morning. He was smiling, too.

“Did you sleep OK?”

“Better than OK,” he said, still not moving an inch from the very warm and comfortable position he was in.

Karen propped herself up on her elbow at his side. She seemed to be contemplating something. He waited, though he was dying to ask what was on her mind, if her thoughts were anything like his. If she was anywhere near as content as he was.

“You know, we've been pretty focused on what I want,” she said finally. “Don't you have any fantasies?”

He swallowed. This was his chance — to put the fear aside. To tell her the truth about himself. Again.

“Yeah, I do,” he said slowly. “I fantasize about waking up like this every morning.” He turned his face toward her. “With you.”

“Matt—”

"I don't want to get you out of my system. I don't want to move on. So if that's really what you want, we should probably stop now."

Then he waited yet again, holding his breath.

"We're definitely not stopping,” she said, snuggling in close. “I should’ve known this plan would never work.” She sighed and nuzzled her face against his neck. "I’m just a little too in love with you.”

And that was the best fantasy come true of them all.


End file.
